If only I was older, I thought to myself. Then it would all change. I sighed as I looked around the hall. Why was I blamed for I crime I didn't even commit? I don't even know who actually did it. I was 13 and in juvie. I was thought to be one of the toughest girls there, even though all these kids scare me. I was blamed for robbing seven supermarkets, 18 restaurants, and 5 houses. But I didn't. My family was rich, and I didn't need any money. Yet somehow I was found guilty. Apparently I was "in need of emotional support" and "had no affection from my family." But I did. I was perfectly happy and an honor roll student, until police came and told me I had the right to remain silent. Even if I did these crimes, would I still be the toughest girl here? In any case, my future was ruined and none if this would have ever happened. If I was older, there would be no chance it could be me. It had to be a girl of my age the judge had said.

I got up from my table in the lunch hall. All the other girls backed up. I frowned. Why me? But I could still play around with the role of "tough girl." I tossed my long blonde hair and straightened up.

"Excuse me," I said to a girl in front of me. "I need to get through." She shrunk back scared. I felt bad, but I held my ground. She got up.

"Hey, Miss America!" My only friend, Laura, here walked over. No one knows we are friends because we are both thought to be heartless, tough chicks who roamed the streets with a gang of people following behind us. And we are so not. Plus, we are both falsely accused. "Who do you think you are, sitting at this table without my okay? Cuz I don't think I said ok."

"I did though," I said through gritted teeth. "And that's all that matters." It was all I could do to not laugh. I could tell she felt the same way.

"You are going down Miley Greene!" she said with a hidden smile on her face. I gave her a playful push, and she almost laughed.

"That's enough girls," said a voice behind us. Our counselor. "Next time, you two gonna go somewhere worse than here." We both gave resentful looks toward her and walked away. Laura gave me a sad look and we parted ways.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.